Shameless Lies
by Belacquagirl
Summary: What if Lyra hadn't fooled Mrs. Coulter with the spy-fly that night in Bolvangar? Based on the scene of the film.
1. I

**Dedicated to Victoria Malloy, who asked me to write how Lyra felt towards her mother at that moment.**

 **Hope you enjoy! xoxo**

* * *

Lyra felt her mind drifting towards consciousness.

She could see the light outside her closed eyelids, not too bright so to actually disturb her, but light nonetheless. She felt a softness beneath her. She had only lied in something so soft and cozy for a brief period of her short life, many weeks ago in London.

She breathed in deeply as her mind urged to open her eyes and her body urged for more needed rest. For many days now she had been sleeping on the hard cold floor, with blankets that seemed too thin to hold any heat around her body. Here, she was warm and comfortable and a peaceful feeling settled in her.

Eventually, though, her mind won the struggle and, taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes.

The first thing she registered was the scent. A sweet, perfumed smell. Without moving, she realised she was in a dimly lit room. The softness she had felt before was from nothing less than the large double bed she was in.

How had she come to this place? What _was_ this place? She couldn't remember.

Looking to the side, she saw Pan in his cat form. His head laid on the cloud-like pillow and a linen blanket covered his body.

Suddenly, it all came back to her: the struggle against that wicked people; the horrific machine; the hands that went deeper than any hand should ever go; the weakness... Had it all been a dream?

She touched her daemon softly, testing the feel of his fur in her fingers, afraid he would vanish at any moment. He reacted putting a paw over her chest, as if to hug her.

"Pan...?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

In a single movement, she swept him up, taking her dear companion into her arms. She hugged him tightly. Maybe tighter than she ever did. She pressed him into her heart. His heartbeat matching hers.

"Oh, Pan" she whispered into his fur.

He was here.

"Lyra?" a hand touched her shoulder softly.

Who could be disturbing this moment? Furthermore, from whom that soft, shy touch could belong to? Certainly not to the men nor the nurse that grabbed her.

She turned her head slowly to peek over her shoulder. She almost wished she hadn't, however, for the person who stood in there was no other than Mrs. Coulter!

"Darling…" said the sweet voice.

Lyra's reaction, then, surprised even herself.

"Don't! Don't you touch!" she said jolting to the end of the other side of the bed so that she was the farthest as possible from the woman.

Pantalaimon, freeing himself from her protective arms, jumped to the floor beside her, hiding, in case she would try to put her hands on him.

"No. No, no. No one's…" the blonde-haired woman tried to say as Lyra backed even more.

Mrs. Coulters' face was... Careful? Lyra had never seen this look on her eyes before.

"No one is going to hurt you. No one is ever, ever going to hurt you" she tried to assure Lyra, gesticulating with her hands to emphasise the meaning of her words.

She passed her hands softly in Lyra's knee in a failed attempt to soothe her. The two of them seemed like magnets of same polarity, for for every movement the woman made towards Lyra, the girls' movements were on the opposite direction.

Perched on the edge of the bed, Lyra had no choice but to let Mrs. Coulter's hand caress her knee. Her whole body was tense; she could feel it just as she could feel Pantalaimon's fur bristled as he carefully watched that hateful monkey at his human's feet.

"They…" she swallowed hard "They did it to Billy… And those other kids" Lyra managed to say. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue didn't seem obey her commands properly "They cut their daemons' away."

Mrs. Coulters' face was suddenly impassive. Hard. Lyra once again felt afraid but now was too late to stop.

"Why? Why are they doing that?" she whined but, at the same time, was glad by the firm pitch in her voice.

"I know, I know it's difficult to understand, but it's for their own good," the woman said sounding no convincing at all "it's just a little cut."

And, seeing as Lyra once more tried to back impossibly away, she changed her approach.

"You listen," she said as she finally straightened her body up "you listen to me," she carefully watched as Lyra focused on her.

"A long, long time ago, some of our ancestors made… Made a _terrible_ mistake." she looked meaningfully to the child "They disobeyed the Authority. And that is what made Dust come into the world. And ever then we've been sick with it, we've been sick with Dust… But there is a way out." she smiled briefly as it was some indeed good new.

"You see, Dust doesn't settle on innocent children. It's later. When your daemon begins to settle that Dust begins to swarm all around us, trying to work its mischief and that's how children begin to have all sorts of nasty thoughts and unhappy feelings… But there _is_ a way to stop it. A little cut. And it's gone, forever."

During her speech, she circled the bed and seated by Lyra's feet. All along, she felt the girl wasn't buying her lie. She was too smart…

"Well, if it is so good" Lyra put an emphasis on the last word "why don't you do it to yourself? Why not let them do it to me?!"

Mrs. Coulter smiled at her, a sad and knowingly smile.

"I am going to tell you something. Something very important you don't know. Intercision is not perfect yet, and you are not just anyone Lyra… Your mother didn't die in an airship accident as you were told; she wasn't married to your father and even though…" she took a breath "even though she loved you very much and… and she wanted to keep you… it wasn't allowed"

Mrs. Coulter seemed to momentarily lose herself in thought before eying Lyra back.

"So you were taken from her. And it wasn't until things… changed… And she was free to do as she wanted to do it… She went to Jordan College and she spoke to the Master."

She watched as the truth dawned in Lyra and the girl opened her mouth in surprise.

"NO! You can't be!" she said as she finally ran away from the bed and from her mother.

Marisa wanted to stop her daughter and make Lyra look in her eyes. She wanted to pull the girl into a tight hug, as she'd done once or twice at home, _their_ home, without the child even knowing the reason why. But she stopped herself.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Did Lyra realise how much she was hurting her? She turned quickly, however, to prevent the Golden Monkey to go after her daughter's daemon. He was upset and he was angry. He wanted to comfort Pantalaimon, assure him everything would be fine, but she knew they needed their space.

"Yes Lyra, you're mine." she held him firmly in place.

"And you're safe with me" she stood, still holding her hand behind her, a symbol for her daemon stay where he was "You'll always be safe with me"

She stood before Lyra but kept her distance.

Mrs. Coulter? Her… _Mother_? No, it couldn't be. She was a liar! All that woman had done before was lying (about them coming to the North, who she was, what she did for the Magisterium, what they did to the kids…), she ought to be lying again! Lyra didn't believe her and, most of all, she didn't _want_ to believe. However, something deep inside her knew it wasn't a lie.

She could only think about the alethiometer. Oh, how fervently she wished to use it! It would tell everything… The _truth_ , not half nor a interpretation; it would tell her all of it in the purest form. The intentions that led to this moment, if they were still the same... It was almost a necessity to know. Nevertheless, she couldn't use it now. The Master had stressed quite well the importance to keep it hidden and, now she realized, he meant especially from Mrs. Coulter. Later then, when she was free, she thought to herself, but certainly not now.

For the entire time, Pan had been aware of the hateful monkey and now, as he was forced to stay away by his human, he looked almost vulnerable. He seemed… amiable? If one didn't know better, could almost say that he looked loving.

Lyra heard Mrs. Coulter's footsteps approaching and, reluctantly, turned to her.

"Who's my father?" she was unable to control her curiosity.

The woman opened her mouth as to speak, but no sound came. Although, her look betrayed her; it was someone Lyra knew… She didn't need to put much thinking into it for, deep down, she already knew the truth.

"Lord Asriel." she stated "He's my father, isn't he?" again, she couldn't control her emotions. Her happiness, her enthusiasm, were too much to be held back. Uncle Asriel… Her father!

It was no wonder he always made some time to see her when he went to Jordan, as it now seemed perfectly reasonable why he took her 'when her parents died' and why he was so thoughtful about her education, always filling her with questions about what she was being taught or not happy when he discovered she had been missing classes.

So, if this all was true (and Lyra hoped only the part of Lord Asriel was), then it made her 'mother' even worse! Why hadn't she gone visiting her for her whole life? If she was indeed taken from her parents, shouldn't Lord Asriel also not have been allowed to see her? There was more to this story, she was sure. A lot more.

Mrs. Coulters' face was hard, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Lyra couldn't really put a finger at all the emotions that were in there, her expression was much too complex for it. Even with all the time they'd lived together in London, the girl had never learned to read more than what the intoxicating woman let appear on the surface.

Lyra felt all her muscles tense as Mrs. Coulter paced slowly towards her. Her body was in escape mode, but there was nowhere to run. She briefly closed her eyes as she urged her legs to not move. She was surprised at how the closer she was to the woman, the more apprehensive she got.

"Yes, yes…" the soft and sweet voice whispered as long arms encircled Lyra. With one hand at the back of her head, Mrs. Coulter brought Lyra to her chest and gently rested her own head on top of the girls'. She knew she should have been filled with warmth at the maternal comfort she had wished for her whole life and yet, she felt nothing. She kept still, arms down, eyes low, as the fingers stroked her hair lightly and sweetly.

They kept like this for what seemed an eternity to Lyra. She knew what the woman was trying to do: she was trying to get Lyra to trust her, trust like she would trust a mother. Had she no shame? To use the one thing Lyra had lacked all her life: a mother; the soft caress of a feminine hand.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Coulter couldn't bear her anxiety any longer. From the moment Lord Asriel's name had come into the conversation, the Golden Monkey had become agitated, as if he had suddenly remembered something. Of course, he was betraying his human's feelings.

"Now, I almost forgot," she started to caress Lyra's hair again "the Master of Jordan gave you something, didn't he? He gave you an alethiometer, didn't he?"

 _I knew it, Pan! I knew it!_ she thought to him, smiling proudly at how perceptive she was. It was so obvious Mrs. Coulter was using her, that she couldn't care less to what happened to her or Pantalaimon; Lyra was just only mean she had to get to what she wanted and she wouldn't be able to help if she had been through the intercision. That meant, if she had survived the shock, of course… She had seen it with Billy, how he was unable to think anything other than Ratter. It she had gone suffered the so called 'surgery' she would never have been able to tell Mrs. Coulter where the compass was!

Mrs. Coulter once more pressed Lyra against her chest, ever so slightly, and took a deep breath, as if she wished to enjoy the moment a little longer.

"But you see," she lowered herself so as their eyes were on the same level, even though her hands rested a while more on Lyra's shoulder. It almost seemed that she was reluctant to let go "it wasn't really his to give."

She was such a liar! How could she have _ever_ believed in something this woman said? But she was still in danger, she could still be thrown into that vile machine again, was Mrs. Coulter not pleased with her.

"Lie." Pan thought to her "She has to think she can trust you if we want to escape."

She was torn for a moment: she couldn't give the golden compass, it was hers and Lord Asriel might need it! On the other hand, Pan was right; she needed the woman to believe in her if she wanted a chance to escape. If only she could fool her with something else… It was then that the idea hit her: the spy-fly was also on her purse! It was a perfect distraction, buying her the time she needed to run from that room and, at the same time, she'd have to move quickly so to not be stung.

She glanced to the small purse in her hand before looking up again to Mrs. Coulter. It was important that she thought Lyra was looking at the alethiometer. Lyra lied easily, she did it as long as she could remember. She guessed it was in her blood, if what Mrs. Coulter said was indeed true, but this time was different: she had to be an artist, and she had been preparing for it her whole life.

"Oh, he did." Lyra tried a small, eager smile "Must've seemed such a puzzle, wondering what a silly, old thing like that was any good for…"

Lyra wondered how she had ever, ever, ever found this woman to be so fascinating and clever.

"All right. Here it is" she said trying hard to seem decided as she handed the tin containing the spy-fly. She made sure to smile too, every tiny detail mattered now.

Mrs. Coulter eyed the tin suspiciously for a moment.

"Thank you" she kissed Lyra's forehead.

She straightened herself, analyzing the metal compartment in her hands. Something didn't seem quite right, the weight was too light to be the one of the compass…

"What a funny old tin! Did you put it in here to keep it safe, dear?" she was studying the melted iron that sealed the tin. Lyra found a letter opener above the table and handed to her, she needed to open it as quick as possible, before she changed her mind! Beside her, Lyra silently put on her boots and got her belongings, ready to shoot out the door as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

As she begun to pull the iron off, the Golden Monkey jumped on the table, too impatient to wait for his human. He took it from her hand and examined again, trying to figure the best way to open it. He ripped the seal so fast that Lyra almost couldn't believe; then, as he was about to open it, the monkey curiously bent closer. A furious buzzing filled the room.

Lyra and Pantalaimon held themselves still. Mrs. Coulter also got closer for a moment before suddenly and snapping it from her daemons' hand and pressing it shut again as hard as she could.

She placed it under a heavy, metal ornament that was on top of the desk and turned back to face Lyra.


	2. II

The girl was stupefied, frozen in place. What would she do now? The woman would certainly put her in that machine again and, this time, there would be no escape. Pantalaimon jumped in front of her as a wildcat, fur bristled, and snarled at the Golden Monkey. They'd fight this time; they'd fight fiercer and more furiously than ever.

The other daemon's fur also stood up but, after a glance from Mrs. Coulter, he remained still.

"Why did you give me the spy-fly, Lyra?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard. In this moment, Lyra realized that all the fear in her nature was drawn to Mrs. Coulter as a compass needle is drawn to the Pole. She looked to the powerful and questioning look the woman was giving her and shuddered, turning her eyes away quickly. She stared at her feet as she heard the woman approaching slowly. Her legs remained numb, as if they didn't belong to her anymore.

The woman must have realised something, for the monkey's fur came down and he turned away from them, moving to the bed again, as if he had suddenly lost interest in the situation.

"You're afraid" she heard Mrs. Coulter whisper. Pantalaimon jumped into her arms "Look at me."

Lyra was surprised to notice that the woman not only stood mere centimeters from her, but her body was lowered so their eyes could be at the same level again. She cupped the girls' cheeks with both her hands.

"Lyra, no one will never even _try_ hurting you again, I promise. Tomorrow we'll catch a zeppelin back to London and you'll never have to come here again" Lyra met her eyes "It's alright to be afraid, my love."

Lyra nodded thoughtfully and Mrs. Coulter once again embraced her.

"Why did you give me the spy-fly?" she asked again, this time more sweetly.

"Fool them!" Pantalaimon thought to her.

"I don't have the alethiometer" she took a deep breath when Mrs. Coulter eyed her hard "I left it with Lord Faa, to keep it safe. I wouldn't be able to protect it the way I should."

Mrs. Coulter studied her face a moment longer and Lyra used all the force she had left to not betray her emotions. She did her best to put an angelic face, but not enough that the woman would suspect. At last Mrs. Coulter closed her eyes, her face was impassive.

"Alright then; we'll talk about it tomorrow" she put her arms around Lyra's shoulder and led her towards the bed "For now, you need to sleep, darling. You must be exhausted!"

Mrs. Coulter placed Lyra in bed again, letting her put the purse underneath the pillow. She covered her daughter and sat by her side in the bed before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead and starting to softly caress her hair.

"Sweet dreams" said that soft voice.

Oh, the wicked liar. Lyra knew she must have a plan. And even if she actually wanted to Lyra to go back to London with her, the girl doubted she would simply leave the alethiometer aside. She'd use Lyra as bait to get it, that was what she'd do; and, if Lyra didn't agree to it, she'd keep her here, in this dreadful place, until she found a way to put her hands in what she wanted.

"She's using us, Lyra! She only told us all that so we'd hand her the compass!" Pantalaimon whispered almost inaudibly in her ear "She wants us to sleep so she can take it herself!"

"I know it, Pan. Let's just pretend; when she goes away, we run."

She knew he understood the message. He placed himself the closer he could to her chest in his rat form and Lyra closed her eyes. Almost instantly, however, Lyra's body eased and she felt her mind starting to drift. Well, maybe she could take a rest. Only for a few minutes…

* * *

Her eyes snapped open.

Another loud, urgent knock. This must be what woke her. She turned her head to face the door just in time to see Mrs. Coulter opening it. She was wearing the same clothes, but her hair was slightly disheveled at the back. Had she been sleeping in the armchair?

Sure, Mrs. Coulters' hair wasn't messy enough so that anyone would notice, but one thing Lyra had learned while in London was that her hair was always impeccably neat and there was never a thread out of place.

The nurse spoke quickly and Lyra could understand a few words with the siren sound from outside the room: … "attack" ... "Tartars are fighting" … "zeppelin" … "safe"…

Mrs. Coulter gave a small nod and closed the door, turning towards her. Lyra quickly shut her eyes hoping the woman hadn't seen she was awake. She heard her approaching silently and felt when the mattress shifted under the weight as she seated in the border of the bed.

"Lyra" Gentle fingers stroke her face "Lyra, wake up my love."

She opened her eyes slowly. Mrs. Coulter's face was a mask.

"Darling, you need to get dressed; the station is under attack, but there's a zeppelin waiting for us outside. We'll fly to Trollesund just as a precaution."

"What is going on?"

"A crazy man made a bear attack us. The guards are taking care of it, but we need to go." She got up and seeing that the girl had not move she added "It's alright darling; it's going to be safe, I promise."

A crazy man? Who did she think she was to call Mr. Scoresby like this? And 'a bear'? Iorek Birninson was _not_ just a bear, he was the rightful king from Svalbard! Besides, did she really think Lyra would believe that they were afraid of only a bear and a man? Lyra knew the Tartars must be losing the fight, if they wanted Mrs. Coulter to go somewhere safer. But… If Iorek and Mr. Scoresby were here, that meant that the gyptians had to be also close.

The woman went to the wardrobe and took out a long, furry coat and a pair of gloves. After, she went to the chair by her desk and picked up Lyra's coat, gloves and boot. She put the shoes in front of Lyra and the rest of her belongings above the bed.

"Lyra, get dressed. Now!" this time, she could see a hint of worry in her eyes.

Lyra obediently put her boots and coat, just as Mrs. Coulter did. The woman opened the door and waited Lyra to get out.

"Come." she said putting her arms around her daughter and guiding her through the empty corridors on this side of the Station.

They passed in front of two doors, side by side. Even though they were closed, Lyra could hear someone yelling inside above the other loud voices. The childrens' dormitories, Lyra supposed; it must've been havoc inside, with the nurses trying (apparently in vain) to control the kids. With a glance to Mrs. Coulter, she could tell she was right, for the woman's face showed clearly her disapproval on the inability to control of her staff. Of course she didn't think of it as a hard task, all the children were afraid from her and, as Pan reminded, it was quite easier to take control when you input fear in the process.

She almost pitied the nurses in some way, even with the horrid things they were doing. When this all was over, they'd have to deal with Mrs. Coulter herself, and this was no easy feat.

They reached the back gate. Mrs. Coulter opened the door, leading Lyra in front of her; the freezing blast hit her face as soon as she set foot outside the warm building, making her cheeks burn. She looked around searching for Iorek, but there was nothing there: no guards, no bear and no aeronaut, only a zeppelin waiting for them. Of course Mrs. Coulter wouldn't risk going to the middle of the fight to run, she should have thought of that.

"It's alright, my love. We'll soon be safe out here, there's no need to be afraid." A hand ran softly through her curls.

She needed to escape, and quick. She couldn't get on that zeppelin, otherwise, there would be no hope for the gyptians to find her. She waited until they reached the door of the tower that led up to the zeppelins' entrance and dropped to the floor as if she'd let something fall, obliging Mrs. Coulter to take a step forward into the tower to be in front of her.

"Lyra? What happened, darling?" The Golden Monkey got closer to her, trying to see her face. Pantalaimon then sprinted forward, becoming a snow leopard midair, claws raised, ready for attack.

The monkey was caught off guard, allowing Pan to scratch the black, tiny face. Mrs. Coulter, too, screamed both at the surprise and the pain, her hand going instantly to her own face. She gave Lyra a furious glare but, before she could even move, the girl and her daemon were darting back inside.

Lyra ran as fast as she could, faster than she had ever done in her whole life; she dared a glance back to her "mother": the monkey was running towards them, while his human walked slowly. She almost couldn't believe increasingly large gap between them. Apart from the witches, no one should get so distant from its daemon at least, not without a good deal of pain… She shook her head slightly to clear her mind as she felt the warmth from indoor caress her face. With a single move of her arm, she slammed the door closed, barely listening the monkey's screeches when the door almost got him.

When she reached the main corridor, the doctors and nurses were moving from one side to another in small group, too busy and too worried with the invasion to care that one of the children had escaped from the rest.

"Fire alarm!" Pantalaimon shrieked. Becoming an eagle, he flew ahead of her.

She spotted a button on the corner and smashed the glass with her desperate fist. She ran on, looking for the kids dormitories. She saw another alarm and also smashed it, and then another.

And then, she saw it: that hateful door that led into the gruesome room. Without a second thought, she pushed the heavy metal door open. She breathed in deeply at the sight of the dazzling white tiles and the horrendous machine in the middle of it. She ran to the panel and moved every single one of the switches up. A humming sound filled the empty room as the mesh between the cages began to glow, sending sparks of anbaric energy.

She got one of the small machines and threw it right in the middle of the larger one. Instantly, the machine was engulfed by energy and a couple of anbaric currents ran through it before giving way to small explosions, which, in turn, gave way to one large explosion that set everything in flames.

By this time, Lyra was back to the corridor when she felt the building shaking and heard the noise behind her. Now, with the alarm, not only the staff, but the children also ran in the corridors looking for a way out. As luck would have it, a group of children had found the storeroom where the winter clothing was kept and was herding the other ones there. Adults tried in vain to control the situation; however, they were utterly ignored by the running kids, and none of them had any idea of what was happening.

She ran in the direction of the children, many of them already had their clothes on and waited directions on what to do. Others were still trying to reach the coats; some of the younger ones were crying and some few of the oldest tried to soothe them. Another explosion, louder than the first one. The blast knocked several people and cries of pain mixed with the ones of fear.

Lyra struggled up.

"This way! This way!" she heard Pantalaimon calling. The air was could now, certainly this last explosion had taken down one of the walls.

"Come! This way!" she shouted on top of her lungs, incentivizing the children to get on their feet again. She led them towards the main entrance. There were already children and adults gathered there but this time, the adults were agitated and the children more fearful.

"Roger! Roger!" She shouted, but in the midst of the turmoil was almost impossible for him to hear anything, but Pan soon found him with his owl eye. A moment later, she was beside him.

"Roger! Tell 'em to follow me!" she shouted into his ear

"They won't! They're all panicky-"

"Tell 'em that the doctors cut the daemons and take them away! Tell 'em it's going to happen to 'em if they stay here!"

Roger gaped horrified, but then collected his wits and ran through the children and hesitated them. She saw some kids clutching their daemon tightly. She ran in the opposite direction doing the same.

"Come with me!" she shouted "There's a rescue on the way, we just need to get there!"

The children heard her and followed. Outside, the freezing air hit her face and she hoped the children had got warm enough. Looking back, she saw that a good part of the compound had collapsed and flames were licking at the rest.

They hadn't ran pass the path of lights when, above the shout of the adults, the frightened cries of the children and the wild wind, there came another sound, dreadfully close and violent. She had never heard it before, but she knew at once: it was the Tartar's guards wolf daemons.

Looking ahead, she saw a line of them, a group that had left the bear to contain the fugitive children. She came to a halt. She desperately searched for Iorek or Mr. Scoresby, but the aeronaut was nowhere to be seen and the armoured bear was struggling against the ropes that tied him to the ground.

She made her way to the front of everyone. The wolves daemons snarled intimidatingly and the children flinched afraid. Lyra was sure that one of them would try to go back at any moment and, after the first, many would follow. She took a step forward. And then another and another, stopping halfway between the kids and the guards. They wouldn't harm them, she knew. Those wicked people needed children for their experiments, _healthy_ children. She'd bet their orders was just to haul them back, not hurt.

She spit on the feet of the one that seemed to be the leader, defiance clear on her face.

"Go on then. Go on!"

He unsheathed his sword, threatening, and voiced an order in a strange language. His voice was firm and determined, she could understand why they were the ones to guard here: with eyes as could as this one's, no children would go forward without thinking at least 10 times before.

She continued to stare at him, refusing to drop her eye. The wolves snarled even more, biting the thin air. She felt someone's presence and turned to see Roger beside her; he held his hand for her, which she gladly took.

The head Tartar was obviously getting impatient, not used to such insolence and disobedience. He calmly turned to one of the men beside him a said something. Immediately, one of the wolves ran towards Lyra and Roger, apparently she'd been wrong, apparently she'd serve as an example. She pressed his hand harder, preparing for the pain, but for not a second did one of them flinch. But the impact never came.

She heard a shot. Not so loud because of the distance, but it was clearly the sound of a gun. She realized the wolf was gone and the remnants of a golden cloud of Dust lingered in the air.

Surprised, she looked to her side to see Lord Faa smiling contentedly holding his pistol. Behind him, countless Gyptians ran in their direction, with a balloon on toll.

"Mr Scoresby, help Iorek!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Let's go!" she shouted to the children, compelling them away from the fight as the Gyptians made their way in and a certain armoured bear got loose.


End file.
